


One Red-Necked Hen

by Warp5Complex_Archivist



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-19
Updated: 2006-03-19
Packaged: 2018-08-16 06:58:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8092168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warp5Complex_Archivist/pseuds/Warp5Complex_Archivist
Summary: (06/05/2003)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Kylie Lee, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Warp 5 Complex](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Warp_5_Complex), the software of which ceased to be maintained and created a security hazard. To make future maintenance and archive growth easier, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but I may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Warp 5 Complex collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Warp5Complex).

  
Author's notes: This is for Spot's 21st birthday challenge. The required elements were; Tu/R, alcohol, pineapple-flavoured rum, humour, pineapple lube, NC-17  
  
Beta: The excellent Erin, many thanks.  


* * *

The system Enterprise was surveying had two Minshara-class planets. An unusual occurrence in itself; that both planets supported separate pre-warp cultures was an added bonus and the science departments were in their element.

Unfortunately this left the remainder of the crew with little or nothing to do. A week into the survey and Enterprise's engines, weapons and operational systems had been stripped down, rebuilt, tweaked, analysed and overhauled to within an inch of their lives. There was nothing needed doing that hadn't already been done. The danger of contaminating the indigenous cultures ruled out shore leave, and for the crew members who were not involved in the planetary survey ennui was beginning to creep in.

It was Ensign Hoshi Sato who came up with the idea of a party; a chance to let their hair down and take the edge off their restlessness. But surprisingly it was Lieutenant Malcolm Reed who thought of an appropriate theme.

'Wednesday,' he announced to the self-appointed party-planning group. 'We should hold it next Wednesday.'

Sato and Travis Mayweather politely waited for him to explain. Trip Tucker didn't.

'Wednesday!' he exclaimed. 'You can't hold a party on a Wednesday.'

'Why not?'

'Friday and Saturday, they're party nights. But Wednesday? What's special about a Wednesday?'

' _A_ Wednesday, nothing, but _this_ Wednesday has significance for us.'

The other three just looked at him blankly.

'The 12th of April?' Reed asked, waiting for the penny to drop with his audience. Waiting in vain. 'The 12th April, 1961,' he elaborated, to more blank stares. 'Vostok 1, Yuri Gagarin, the first Human in space, launched 12th April, 1961, one hundred and ninety one years ago. Next Wednesday is Gagarin Day.'

'Where?' Tucker demanded. 'I've never heard of Gagarin Day.'

'In Europe,' Reed said with exaggerated patience. 'Europe, where the space age began. I would have thought even an American would know that!'

'Brilliant,' Sato said, forestalling the argument she could see brewing between the bored, and therefore ratty, pair. 'Wednesday it is.'

* * *

The Gagarin Day party had been a great success; even Commander Tucker had to admit that. Sato and Mayweather had managed to decorate the mess hall with little rocket ships, and had even dug some photographs of Gagarin and the Russian rocket programme out of Enterprise's computer. And if Crewman Rostov was the only person totally happy with Chef's cauldron of borscht, the blinis and caviar and the iced vodka shots went down well with everyone.

Now it was getting late and things were beginning to wind down. Most of the food was gone, the music had been turned down and those whom Tucker described as being 'less than completely dedicated to having a good time' had retired to their beds, but there were still a fair number of revellers in the mess hall, sitting in groups talking and drinking.

One such group was the planning committee, who Sato now insisted on calling 'mission control'. Tucker, Sato, Mayweather and Reed sat at a table by one of the windows. Captain Archer had been with them for most of the evening, but had just excused himself to go and check with T'Pol before retiring to his bed.

Archer's leaving had disturbed the dynamic of the group and there were signs of it breaking up; Sato finished her drink and stretched, Mayweather looked at his watch.

Trip Tucker really did not want the evening to end. He was sitting next to Malcolm, both of them with their backs to the window, and had taken advantage of the very relaxed atmosphere to get physically closer to the other man.

Tucker wasn't sure exactly when his friendship with Enterprise's reticent armoury officer had turned into something more, but now he was willing to admit, to himself at any rate, that he was in love. There was absolutely nothing in Malcolm's demeanour to lead Tucker to believe that his feelings were reciprocated, so the engineer was reduced to grasping any opportunity that presented itself to get close to the object of his affections. On-duty contact was fine and easy to arrange, though he was a bit worried that eventually someone was going to ask why the chief engineer had to answer every request from the armoury personally. But off-duty contact was, or at least could be, much, much better. This evening, for instance, he'd been sitting next to Malcolm for four hours, and under the cover of increasing intoxication had managed to spend the last thirty minutes or so actually leaning against the armoury officer. No way was Tucker prepared for this to end now.

'We could play a game,' he announced, reluctantly pulling himself upright.

Alongside him Reed stretched surreptitiously, as if he'd been sitting too long in one position.

'A game?' Sato queried.

'Yeah. You'll love it. You'll be good at it. A linguistic game,' Tucker explained.

'Sounds interesting,' she admitted. 'What do we have to do?'

'Well we need drinks for a start. I'll get 'em. You in, Travis, Malcolm?' Without waiting for their answers, Tucker made his way to the dispenser and ordered another round for the group.

'So,' Reed said, when Tucker returned with their glasses, 'what you really mean is a drinking game.'

'A linguistic drinking game, Malcolm. There's words, an' the words are important. You're gonna play, right?' he asked the three of them, his best Porthos begging for cheese expression on his face.

'Why not?' Reed said, finishing his drink and pulling the new glass towards him. 'I've always been good at this kind of thing. I hope there's a going to be a prize, to make it worth our while.'

Tucker just grinned. He knew what prize he'd like to give Malcolm, win or lose; he'd only suggested the game to keep the lieutenant here anyway.

Sato and Mayweather allowed themselves to be persuaded, and the three of them looked expectantly to Tucker.

'Okay. I'm going to say somethin' and you have to repeat it. We go round the table clockwise, so Hoshi, you're first. Understand?' They all nodded, so he started the game. 'One red-necked hen.'

'One red-necked hen,' Sato parroted.

She and Tucker both looked at Mayweather, who looked back at them blankly.

'You have to say it next, Travis,' Tucker explained. 'Just repeat what she said.'

'One red-necked hen'

'That's it.' Tucker grinned at him. 'Now you, Malcolm.'

'Wait a minute.' Reed held up a hand as if signalling for a time-out. 'Do I have to repeat what Travis said, or what you said? They could be different, you know.'

'What I said. You all have to repeat what I said.'

'And what happens if we don't?' Reed asked.

'If you get it wrong, you have to take a drink. And since you didn't repeat what I said, take a drink.'

'That's not fair, I was checking the rules,' Reed protested.

'And now you know what they are. Take a drink, and say the line.'

With rather bad grace, Reed did as instructed.

Tucker nodded. 'One red-necked hen and two cute ducks.' He turned to Sato.

'One red-necked hen and two cute ducks.'

'Travis?'

'One red-necked hen, two cute ducks.'

'That's wrong!' Reed jumped in before anyone else could speak. 'You missed the 'and' out.'

'Don't tell him what's wrong!' Tucker exclaimed, glaring at Reed. 'Travis, you have to take a drink and then say it again.'

The helmsman grinned at Reed, tipping his glass good naturedly in his directing before taking a drink. 'One red-necked hen, _and_ two cute ducks.'

Tucker gave an exaggerated sigh and then turned towards Reed.

'One red-necked hen and two cute ducks,' the armoury officer said easily, aiming a sly smile in Tucker's direction.

Ignoring the butterflies in his stomach caused by Malcolm's smile Tucker started the next round. 'One red-necked hen and two cute ducks. Three brown bears.'

It took some time to get through this round. Hoshi had four attempts before Tucker was satisfied with her rendition. Reed and Mayweather spent the time discussing what was going on at one of the other tables and giggling at the glares Tucker was aiming at them. He was convinced that neither of them was paying attention, but when it was their turn they each recited the lines perfectly.

Tucker went on to the next round. 'One red-necked hen and two cute ducks. Three brown bears. Four running hares.'

'I haven't got a drink,' Sato announced.

'You may not need one,' Mayweather offered.

'Yes she does,' Reed said, 'she didn't say the line. I'll get Hoshi a drink.' He picked up his own glass and walked over to the dispenser, returning a short while later with drinks for all of them.

'I didn't really need another,' Mayweather said.

'Too late now. You can give it Hoshi,' Reed suggested. 'She's bound to need it soon.'

'Oh, ha bloody ha,' Sato said in her best British accent. 'It's your turn. You might be needing a drink yourself soon.'

Reed grinned at her, then turned to Tucker and repeated the lines carefully, but accurately.

'Okay, Hoshi, listen up. One red-necked hen and two cute ducks. Three brown bears. Four running hares. And five fat females sitting sipping scotch.'

Hoshi managed it on her second attempt and turned to Travis.

'One red-necked hen and two cute ducks. Three brown bears and four running hares. And five fat females sitting sipping scotch.'

This time Reed didn't say anything, but he did look expectantly at Tucker, while Sato giggled.

'What?' Travis demanded. 'What did I say wrong this time?'

''Take a drink, Travis, and say it again,' Tucker instructed.

'But I don't know what I said wrong. You've got to tell me what was wrong.'

'Just take a drink, and say it again.'

'Here, I'll say it again,' Hoshi offered. 'One red-pecked hen. Oh damn!'

'Take a drink,' they all chorused at her.

She did so then repeated the lines. 'And I hope you got that, because I'm not saying it again!'

'Ah!' Travis beamed at her, then raising both his hands to aid his concentration, he carefully recited what she had said. He turned to his left and grinned. 'Your turn, Malcolm.'

Reed picked up his glass and took a drink. 'Thirsty,' he explained, before repeating the required phrases correctly. He smirked at Tucker. 'And the next round is?'

Damn, he really is good at this, Tucker thought,before giving them the next line.

'One red-necked hen and two cute ducks. Three brown bears. Four running hares. And five fat females sitting sipping scotch. And six chic sheiks sitting slitting sheets.'

By now even Tucker needed to take care enunciating. Reed, presumably under the influence of the four, or was it five, large pineapple rums he had drunk, had allowed himself to slip sideways in his chair until he was now leaning against Tucker's right shoulder. To counteract the heat generated by Reed's proximity, Tucker had finished not only the double scotch he'd fetched, but the one Reed had provided too.

Predictably, considering how much they'd all had to drink throughout the evening, the game was degenerating into a laughing free-for-all. Sato vehemently declared that she wanted nothing more to do with 'sheiks shitting sheets,' and Mayweather just gave up after his fifth or sixth unsuccessful attempt. The three of them looked at Reed, who grinned before raising his glass to them in a mock toast and taking a sip. He replaced his glass on the table, looked Tucker straight in the eye and, yet again, gave a careful but perfect recitation of the lines. Sato and Mayweather applauded. Tucker just rolled his eyes.

'So what's the next line,' Reed asked.

'I've got no idea. The game's never got this far before.'

Reed smirked at him again. 'Does that mean I've won?' he asked. 'What's my prize?'

'Malcolm's won, and I'm going to bed,' Sato announced. 'I'm on duty in the morning and I need my beauty sleep.'

'Me too,' Mayweather said, getting, rather unsteadily, to his feet. 'If I don't hit the sack now Enterprise is going to be flying in circles tomorrow. It's all right for you department heads, able to give yourselves the day off! Come on, Hoshi, I'll walk you home.'

Deserted by their companions, Reed and Tucker sat in companionable silence for a minute or two before Tucker asked hopefully, 'D'ya want another drink?'

'No, thanks. I was thinking of bed.' Tucker's butterflies fluttered their wings again at Reed's words. He was gamely trying to ignore them when Reed turned to look at him and asked blandly, 'Unless you've got any other games you'd like to play?'

This was too much. Reluctantly accepting that the night was at an end, and that he needed to remove himself from Malcolm's company before he did or said something he shouldn't, Tucker scrambled to his feet.

'No. No more games, Malcolm. I think I'll head for my bed too.'

'I'll join you,' Reed smiled, causing Tucker's butterflies to start an aerobatic display. 'Walk down with you, I mean.'

The journey to B deck didn't take very long. They reached at the junction where they should have gone their separate ways, and neither of them said anything when Reed followed Tucker along the corridor to his quarters.

Arriving at his door Tucker stopped and turned to Reed.

'So, I guess this is goodnight then,' he said, eyeing Reed doubtfully, wondering what he was up to.

'Is that what you want?' Reed asked.

Tucker's butterflies started looping the loop again. He swallowed nervously. 'Wha'd'ya mean, Malcolm?'

Reed fixed him with a slightly unfocused gaze and a lopsided smile and Tucker felt his breathing rate increase involuntarily. God damn, he looks hot, he thought.

'What I mean,' Reed said, 'is, do you want this to be goodnight, or would you like to...take things further?'

'Further?' Tucker squawked.

'Yes, further. For instance, this far.' Reed stepped towards Tucker, who automatically stepped back until he was against the door. He watched, fascinated, as a rabbit is fascinated by a snake, as Reed leaned forward and pressed soft lips against his.

'Malcolm, you're drunk,' he managed to get out before Reed repeated the kiss.

'I've been drinking. There's a difference.'

'Oh,' was the only response Tucker could think of.

'If I were drunk,' Reed continued, standing in front of Tucker with his hands on the door, one either side of Tucker's head, 'I wouldn't know what I was doing. But since I've only been drinking I know exactly what I'm doing, and what I hope to go on to do.'

Tucker heard himself give a little moan, but he gathered himself together enough to protest, 'Malcolm, I really don't think...'

'You don't have to think, Trip. I can think for both of us, just like I can act for both of us, too. I've seen the way you look at me; the way you watch me; the way you take every opportunity to get close to me. And, yes, I've been drinking.' He waved one hand briefly in front of Tucker's face, dismissing the engineer's half-formed objection. 'Dutch courage. I needed a few drinks to get up the nerve to do this. But I'm not so drunk I don't know what I'm doing, Trip.'

'Malcolm...'

'Drunk enough to make the offer, but not too drunk to follow through. And I'd say the same applied to you. Am I right?'

Tucker gasped as Reed took one of his hands from the door and placed it on Tucker's crotch, rubbing firmly against his growing erection.

'I am right,' he said with a smirk.

'Okay, Malcolm,' Tucker said, with difficulty, 'I admit I'm attracted to you, that I want you, but you don't...you've never...'

'I do, and I am now.' Reed kissed him again. This time Reed's tongue pushed against his lips, demanding entrance and Tucker opened his mouth, eagerly sucking it in. He felt the body pressing, grinding, against his, and his arms of their own volition wrapped themselves round Reed's waist.

They parted, both breathing heavily, and Tucker made one last valiant effort. 'Malcolm, are you sure? No.' He resisted Reed's efforts to kiss him again. 'I want this, have wanted it for a long time, but I don't want just a drunken fuck. I don't want you to wake up and regret this in the morning.'

'For the last time, Trip, I'm not drunk. I want you, but I had to get dr...to have a few drinks, to get up the courage to tell you. Now are we going to bed or not? Because if you turn me down now, there's no way I'll ever do this again.'

It was an ultimatum he couldn't resist. He pulled Reed close to him again and into another kiss as he reached out with one hand and keyed in his door code, getting it right on only the second attempt.

Once inside his quarters, Tucker paused. He'd imagined this moment so many times that he knew exactly what should happen; all the steps were carefully choreographed in his mind. But in that version of events Reed was under his control. Now he was actually here; living, breathing, Reed, standing with his hands on Tucker's shoulders and a dopey smile on his face. The choreographed Reed had never had a dopey smile, and Tucker found that he didn't know what to do next. Fortunately it seemed that the real Reed did.

'Trip, I promise you I know what I'm doing. I want this, truly. You want it too, don't you?'

'God, yes, Malcolm. For weeks, months. You, in my arms, in my bed. Yes, I want this. If you're sure.' Without waiting for an answer Tucker crushed Reed's lips against his own, forced his tongue into the other man's welcoming mouth and abandoned himself to his dream come true.

While his mouth plundered Reed's, Tucker's hands were on their own voyage of discovery, dragging Reed's soft cotton shirt from the waistband of his jeans. He remembered thinking earlier in the evening how its colour brought out the blue in Malcolm's eyes, but now the garment was just an impediment keeping him from his goal. His hands slid under the fabric and settled on hot flesh. He let them rest there for a moment, feeling the rise and fall, the stretching of the ribcage, as Malcolm breathed, and then he lifted the garment higher and bent his head to flick his tongue over one of the exposed nipples.

Reed gasped and his hands, which had been tangled in Tucker's hair, now fumbled with his buttons, finally undoing enough to drag the shirt off over his own head. He then set to work on the fastenings of Tucker's gaudy garment, which soon joined his own on the floor.

Tucker was sucking greedily on Reed's nipples and he moaned in complaint as they moved out of reach. Reed slid down Tucker's body, coming to rest on his knees, his mouth level with Tucker's groin. Tucker watched as, with careful intent, Reed took hold of the button on Tucker's jeans and manoeuvred it through its hole. Then he grasped the tag of the zip and slowly pulled it downwards, over the bulge in the denim.

Tucker appreciated the care Reed was taking, but his impatience won out and thrusting his hands under the waistband of his briefs, he pushed both them and his jeans down onto his thighs.

Reed looked up, his expression hungry. Tucker watched Reed looking at his cock, watched him lick his lips as he contemplated the erect member bouncing gently in front of his face. He watched as Reed's hands moved to Tucker's hips, holding both men steady. He heard the soft, satisfied sigh that Reed exhaled and the catch in his breath as he inhaled again. Then Reed's mouth was on his cock, and, for a moment, he stopped thinking entirely.

Reed's hands and mouth worked Tucker's cock and balls; squeezing, nibbling, sucking, licking. Tucker felt himself drowning in sensual pleasure and, it was with great effort, he dragged himself back from the depths.

'Malcolm,' he gasped, using his hands in the other man's hair to still the movement of his head. 'You gotta stop that, or this is going to be over before it's begun.' He grasped Reed's arms and helped him back to his feet before leaning in for another kiss, tasting himself in Reed's mouth.

Using Reed for balance, Tucker finished pulling off his jeans and briefs. Then he towed Reed over to the bed and laid him down. Perched on the edge of his bed, he ran reverent fingers over Reed's torso before turning his attention to his jeans. He unfastened the buttons and slid his hands inside, pausing in surprise as he encountered only hot, naked Malcolm under the denim.

'Confident, weren't you?' he teased.

'Ex-Eagle Scout,' Reed explained. 'I'm always prepared.'

'Well, well, so you are,' Tucker grinned, tugging the jeans down to expose Reed's erection. 'So tell me, Lieutenant, do you have a merit badge for this?'

'I'm working on it. Care to help me?' Reed looked at him through his dark lashes and licked his lips.

'Mm, I think that could be arranged,' Tucker said as he stripped off Reed's jeans and tossed them aside.

He climbed on the bed and knelt next to Reed, sitting back on his heels and looking at him, a soft, secret smile on his lips.

'What?' Reed asked.

'Just lookin' at you, Mal. Just thinking; you, here in my bed. Savouring the moment, sort of.'

Reed gave a small snort of laughter. 'Come over here. I'll show you 'savour',' he said, wrapping a hand round the back of Tucker's neck and pulling him down.

Tucker let himself be pulled and flopped alongside Reed, throwing one arm and a leg across him. He closed his eyes and just lay there, basking in Reed's presence, until he was poked in the ribs.

'I hope you're not falling asleep on me, Commander.'

''Commander's' awful formal, Mal, considerin' where your mouth's been,' Tucker said, without opening his eyes.

'Just reminding you of your duty, sir.' Reed poked him in the ribs again, then his fingers fastened round one of Tucker's nipples and gave a sharp tug.

'Ow!' Tucker grasped Reed's wrist and pinned it to the bed while he levered himself upright. He straddled Reed's legs, then took hold of his other wrist and pinned that to the pillow too. He looked down at Reed; naked, aroused, grey eyes dilated with desire, hair ruffled and spiked, and Tucker felt his heart leap and his mouth dry suddenly. 'Christ, Mal, you're gorgeous,' he breathed, before leaning to take one of Reed's nipples in his mouth. He sucked on it hungrily, then, fastening his teeth lightly round the newly hardened flesh, he alternately nipped and laved as Reed writhed and moaned beneath him. At the same time, he shifted his position, using his knee to push Reed's legs apart, settling himself between them.

Abandoning Reed's nipples, and releasing his wrists, Tucker used hands and tongue to trace a path down the slender body beneath him. Resting his hands on Reed's hip bones, he used his tongue to thoroughly explore his navel, before finally acknowledging the hard cock that was literally under his nose.

He sniffed the smell of Reed's sex before taking an experimental lick. The cock twitched under his tongue and he heard Reed inhale sharply. Tucker rearranged himself, freeing a hand with which to grasp the base of Reed's cock. With his target thus steadied, he began his assault. The cockhead was shiny with precum, so he started by lapping the bitter fluid, lifting his head to catch Reed's eye as he wetted his lips. Malcolm was watching him, breathing heavily, his hands still resting besides his head on the pillow, where Tucker had placed them.

Returning to the task in hand, Tucker fastened his lips round Reed's cock and slid down its length, swallowing as much as was comfortable. He established a rhythm; pulling up, swiping his tongue round the head, then sucking the shaft back into his mouth. At the same time his hand alternated between holding firmly onto Reed's cock and gently pulling and squeezing his balls. He let the hand trail further, one finger flicking over the puckered ring of Reed's anus, unsure of just how far Malcolm wanted to take things. The heartfelt, 'Oh yes, Trip, please,' emboldened him, and, pausing only to thoroughly coat his finger with saliva, he pushed it carefully inside. Reed's hips bucked as he strove for greater penetration, and he cried out in disappointment as Tucker pulled out and away.

'Hang on, babe,' Tucker muttered, leaning precariously to fish around in a drawer. He settled back, holding the lubricant where the other man could see it. 'Don't want to hurt you. Gotta do this right,' he explained.

'Just do it, Trip,' Reed ordered.

Tucker laughed. 'You're mighty impatient, Lieutenant.

Reed moved his hands, threading his fingers through Tucker's hair and dragging him in for a kiss, fierce and demanding.

'Get on with it, Commander,' he rasped, pushing Tucker back down his body.

Tucker squeezed a generous dollop of lube in his palm and coated his fingers. The sweet smell of pineapple filled the air and he wondered if Malcolm noticed; if he realised that this was how Tucker fed his fantasies. He glanced at Reed; saw the smile on his face, the passion in his eyes and smiled back at him as he slid a well-slicked finger in his ass. Soon it was two, then three fingers, and Reed thrusting up impatiently to meet them; Reed suddenly vocal, urging more, cursing Tucker, demanding to be fucked.

Satisfied that his lover was ready, Tucker quickly lubed his cock. He leaned forward, capturing Reed's mouth, swallowing his disappointment as the fingers were removed from his ass. He gave a last quick suck on Reed's lower lip, then positioned his cock against the prepared hole and carefully pushed inside.

He tried to take it slowly, to make it good for Malcolm, but they were both too far gone for finesse. Urged on by his lover's importunate cursing, Tucker found himself pounding, hard and unrestrained. He caught hold of Reed's cock in his still slick hand , pumping it in time with his thrusts. He felt the warning tightening of his balls and was just wondering if he could rein back, wait for Malcolm, when the other man came, cum escaping Tucker's fingers to spray onto both their bodies. Reed's muscles contracted violently around Tucker's cock, sending him crashing into his own orgasm.

He collapsed on top of Reed, happy for the moment to lie panting in the sticky mess they'd created. His cock softened and slid out. Reed gave a disappointed moan, and Tucker kissed him, sucking gently on his tongue, by way of compensation. Reed's arms wrapped around Tucker, holding him tight against the smaller man's heaving chest.

Tucker lifted his head to plant a sloppy kiss on Reed's forehead. 'You okay?' he asked.

'Wonderful. You?'

'Never better, Mal. Never better.'

Tucker rolled off Reed and padded to the bathroom. He cleaned himself up before returning with a towel and carefully wiping the mingled sweat and cum off Reed's body. Tossing the towel to join the confusion of their clothes on the floor, he climbed back into bed, pulling the blanket over both of them, spooning in behind Reed, one arm curled possessively round him. They were both asleep in moments.

* * *

Tucker woke reluctantly; he'd been dreaming that he had Malcolm's warm body pressed against his, but as consciousness returned he realised that he was in bed alone. He rolled onto his back with a sigh, belatedly registering that the patch he'd rolled onto was warm, as the bathroom door opened and Malcolm walked out.

'Sorry, didn't mean to wake you, needed the loo,' Reed said, slipping back under the covers. He lay on his side looking at Tucker. 'Good morning.'

'Morning,' Tucker replied, uncertainly, turning onto his side to face Reed. 'You okay?' he asked, repeating his question of the previous night, but no longer as sure of the answer.

Reed just quirked an eyebrow at him, his expression unreadable.

'No hangover, I mean, or...or...anything?' he stammered.

'Regrets, you mean?' Reed said, his lips finally curving in a faint smile. 'No, no regrets. What about you?'

'No! I was just worried, y'know. We were both pretty drunk last night.'

'I was not drunk. I distinctly remember telling you that. I'd been drinking; there's a...'

'A difference,' Tucker finished for him, chuckling. 'Yeah, I remember you sayin'. Just not sure I believe you.'

'Well, maybe I was drunk,' Reed conceded. 'But I'm sober now.'

He pushed Tucker onto his back and threw the blanket off, then shimmied down the bed until he was lying with his head by Tucker's hips. Fingers caressed Tucker's inner thigh and his cock, already semi-tumescent, signalled its interest. Reed pushed Tucker's legs further apart and slid a hand up between them to cradle his balls.

'Oh my,' Reed said, propping himself on one elbow, 'what have we here? One red-necked hen and two cute ducks.' He flashed a wicked grin at Tucker, as he moved to lie between his legs. 'I won the game, if you remember, and I think it's time to claim my prize.'


End file.
